In Memory: Boromir
by Manwathiel Melda
Summary: Boromir has left Minas Tirith to go Rivendell, and his younger brother dreads this journey. He fears something will happen to his brother. Written in first person to Faramir. Thanks to Firefly-Maj for the idea of stuffed animals in Middle Earth. AU
1. Prologue

_In Memory: Boromir, Prologue_  
By Faramir  
**Disclaimer:** None of the characters belong to me, and some quotes are from the movie.

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* * *

I followed them, although I knew I shouldn't have. It was a bad idea. My father was angry, my brother annoyed. I had to know what was going on.

* * *

Perhaps before I tell you what happened, I should explain who I am. You would like to know, wouldn't you?

Well I am Faramir, younger son of Denethor and his wife Finduilas. My father is the Steward of Gondor, and my mother is dead. She died when I was five years old. Since then, my father has grown to hate me, although I don't know why. He greatly loves my older brother Boromir.

My brother is very strong, and stubborn. He has cared for me since we were children, and we love each other. He is my best friend.

* * *

Father pulled Boromir aside as we celebrated in the ruins of Osgiliath. Boromir had defeated the enemy, so we were merry.

I followed them to a quieter place and hid myself in the sea of people surrounding the area. Father started talking urgently to Boromir, saying something about the One Ring and Rivendell. Boromir shouted something about not going to Rivendell.

"If there is need to go to Rivendell," I said, coming out of the crowds, "send me in his stead." My father sneered at me. He thought I was worthless, and I knew that. But I also knew my brother didn't want to leave home.

"No," Denethor said. "I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will not fail me." Father glared at me, but I looked at my brother. Boromir smiled sadly. There was nothing we could do. We would both unhappy.

* * *

A few days later, Boromir left. As he galloped away on his beloved horse, he told me to "remember today, little brother." Tears filled my eyes as I watched him leave, knowing I would not see him again for a long time, if at all. This was a dangerous mission on which my father had sent him, and I had a feeling my brother would not be coming back.

As I returned to my rooms, I picked up my stuffed dog Anárion, whom I had named after my ancestor. His son was a King of Gondor.

I clung to Anárion as I had when I was young. My mother had given the dog to me when I was a baby, and I used to cuddle it tightly at night. Anárion was my best friend, and I knew he always would be.

As a ranger of Ithilien, I was often out and rarely home. But Anárion was always waiting for me when I returned.

I squeezed the stuffed animal, scared. I feared that my father had sent my brother to his death, and I knew that Denethor would grumpy as long as his oldest was away. I did not wish to be around my father when he was moody, but I had no choice. I wish he had let me take the journey to Rivendell, instead of my beloved brother. Like I said earlier, I had a horrible feeling that Boromir would not be coming back.

_To Be Continued..._


	2. The Vow

In Memory: Boromir, Chapter 1  
**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except the stuffed dog. **

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Several months later…

I clung to Anárion even tighter this past week, for I had been having the worst dreams. Father sent me off to fight the servants of Sauron in the west. So I did, for I dared not disobey my father. But something strange happen while I was away.

I could not sleep last night, so I decided to get up and walk around. Something, although I could not tell what, was drawing me towards the River Anduin. I started to walk out into the river, in some sort of a daze. I was shocked at what I saw.

There was boat of a design I did not recognize. When I first saw it, I thought there was no one inside. But as it floated closer to me, I realized there was someone in it. The person was lying down in the bottom of the boat. I looked inside and was stunned by the man.

The Man was dressed in rich garments that were weather-stained from a long journey. His sword was laying on his chest, in shards. There was a belt around his waist that gleamed golden in the pale moonlight.

I gasped, for I recognized him. It was my brother, Boromir. He was dead.

* * *

I knew it in my heart, and I was grieved. I told my father, and he was angry. I left him shortly after this and retired to my room where Anárion awaited. I whispered to him all of my troubles and told him how I had to leave. I knew Father's anger would not abate soon, and I did not wish to be around him.

I left Minas Tirith the next day, wishing only to leave my father. I reached Ithilien on March the fifth, relieved to be away from the city. I knew my father would still be angry, and I knew not how to comfort him in his grief.

I wished I had Anárion with me, but I knew I would not be sleeping very much on my journeys. I did not want him to feel left out.

All of this was painful for me, although I could not tell anyone else how I felt. I missed my stuffed dog, for he would listen to me without fail. And he never got angry. I guess it seems foolish that a grown man like me is still so attached to a stuffed dog. But I can't help it. Anárion was always there for me, the best of friends. How could I forsake him after all the comfort he's brought me?

And how could I forget my beloved brother, who I loved very much? My father had abandoned me, but I vowed I would never forsake him or my brother. How could I after all Boromir had done for me, especially as a young child?

I knew I couldn't. I had promised, and I was held to that oath I had made. I promised my brother that I would take revenge on those who had killed him.

With that vow, I continued on my journeys, feeling a little bit better.


End file.
